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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26506399">Come a Little Closer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jo2ukes/pseuds/jo2ukes'>jo2ukes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Golden Route AU, M/M, Not Beta Read</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:33:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,626</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26506399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jo2ukes/pseuds/jo2ukes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I see. So you think I’ve forgotten.” He rests his chin gently atop Hubert’s head.</p>
<p>“Forgotten? No,” Hubert lets out a muffled snort against his chest. “I had, however briefly, entertained the idea that you’d listen to me for once.”</p>
<p>“I'm afraid I’m a rather difficult husband in that regard.”</p>
<p>“So I’ve noticed,” Hubert hums, lifting his gaze. His voice keeps the same even, serious tone it always has, but he cannot hide the twitch of a smile that’s returned to the corner of his lips once more. He does look quite handsome when he’s trying to hide a smile. “Let’s get this over with then, shall we?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dedue Molinaro/Hubert von Vestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Come a Little Closer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>We were talking about deduebert and the invention of the electric blanket in the dedue server today and I immediately contracted brainworms and had to write something. Obviously some liberties were taken with regard to the science behind electric blankets, but that's okay!!! </p>
<p>Special thanks to all the dedue server peeps who inspired this :')</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The oak doors creak gently and the quiet crackle of flames greets Dedue’s ears as he pushes into his room. Hubert is lounging in a chair by the fire, legs draped unceremoniously off one of the arms. Before his entrance, Hubert’s attentions had been captured by some thick compendium- the full title of which looks to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>A Comprehensive Treatise on Pre-Plague Architecture and Housing Law, </span>
  </em>
  <span>if Dedue’s brief glance has any accuracy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hubert’s eyes flick up and meet Dedue’s gaze as the door clicks shut behind him, the hint of a smile twitching at his lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fascinating reading, I’m sure,” he says, walking toward Hubert and placing a kiss atop his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amusement at Hubert’s…unique interests aside, the weariness hanging over him lifts immediately, as though he’s kicked it off along with his boots. While diplomatic meetings and errands are something Dedue is good at, it’s not a favored past-time of his. For a time, he’d been puzzled as to why that was. He was used to having precious few moments to himself, and has always been more than happy to provide assistance to Dimitri. Eventually it dawned on him- the stuffiness of politics, the elusive nature of proper court etiquette, the need to appease privileged nobles- it was all so tiresome. Progress was slow- sure, but slow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure the same could be said of the topic of  whatever seven hour summit you just left,” Hubert laughs, sitting straighter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are many words I’d use to describe it, but fascinating isn’t one of them,” he half-jokes. “Shall I put another log on the fire?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, let it dim,” Hubert dog ears the page he’s on and lets the book in his hands thud shut before standing to stretch. “You should sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a few languid steps, he closes what little distance is left between the two of them. As he nears, Dedue’s hands instinctively find their way to Hubert’s waist, the faint smell that is distinctly </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hubert </span>
  </em>
  <span>(hints of ink and coffee… a splash of something that smells like cinnamon) drifting toward him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see. So you think I’ve forgotten.” He rests his chin gently atop Hubert’s head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Forgotten? No,” Hubert lets out a muffled snort against his chest. “I had, however briefly, entertained the idea that you’d listen to me for once.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm afraid I’m a rather difficult husband in that regard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I’ve noticed,” Hubert hums, lifting his gaze. His voice keeps the same even, serious tone it always has, but he cannot hide the twitch of a smile that’s returned to the corner of his lips once more. He does look quite handsome when he’s trying to hide a smile. “Let’s get this over with then, shall we?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a rare occasion, and for that, perhaps Dedue is lucky. Lucky that these unfettered expressions of joy are so often reserved for his eyes only. Lucky that Hubert doesn’t so often unintentionally test the strength of Dedue’s heart and composure with his soft glances and genuine smiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Close your eyes,” he instructs gently, pressing a kiss to Hubert’s fingertips before releasing him from his grasp. His directive is met with another soft huff from Hubert.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Must I? I’m not a child and, despite your insistence otherwise, there’s hardly any splendor in celebrating my birthday anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Humor me, love,” Dedue laughs gently. He looks on, rooted to the spot until Hubert’s eyes reluctantly droop shut. He crosses the room silently, standing in front of a tall cherry wood armoire, procuring a key from a chain around his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you hide things in the false back of your side of the wardrobe, Molinaro,” Hubert speaks up, smug tones in his voice apparent, as though sensing Dedue’s silent gratitude that the direction of his motion was muffled by the thick rug covering the stone floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And yet, you haven’t managed to steal the key from me,” Dedue clicks his tongue in mock disappointment as he brushes his formal tunics to the side. “Remind me again, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>were </span>
  </em>
  <span>one of Adrestia’s top spies, were you not?” he teases. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t managed to steal it from you </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Hubert corrects him softly, his voice devoid of any actual venom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ignoring his last quip, Dedue opens the false back of his wardrobe, reaching down to procure a thick parcel sitting on the bottom shelf. It’s small, nothing that looks particularly appealing. In times past he felt nervous giving gifts- always afraid they were never enough, never right, knowing he couldn’t pour the same money into his gifts that many of his friends could. He never feels that way with Hubert. He never has and he doesn’t now, even though his gift doesn’t immediately appear to be anything impressive or intriguing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the hefty weight of the gift, nothing about its shape gives away the true nature of the gift. The parchment is plain and quite weathered, crinkling loudly in his grasp. The two of them have been far too busy to take trips to market, and ordering something like flashy gift wrap seems frivolous somehow. He doesn’t let himself dwell on the things he’d do for Hubert, the gifts he’d shower him with. He returns to Hubert’s side, pressing the package into Hubert’s cold fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Open,” he says softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hubert obeys, immediately turning his attention to the mysterious gift in his hands. He lets his fingers run across the parchment, studying the texture and losing himself in thought for only the briefest moment before his slender fingers tear deftly at the thin wrapping.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deep black cloth erupts from the package, spilling out from its constraints as more and more of the parchment falls away. Hubert’s hands are a blur, flashes of pale skin contrasting with the fabric as he runs his fingers up and down the length, memorizing the embroidery, and eventually holding out the cloak to examine it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a thicker fabric than one would usually use for such an article of clothing- particularly in Adrestian style. Hubert’s favorite capes are lined with silk and the shoulders and false pauldrons are the heaviest fabric. Dedue had considered using silk, but worried the heat that was supposed to emanate from the lining would be too much for such a delicate fabric.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You made this, “ Hubert breathes after studying the design for some time. He wraps the cloak around him, his lithe frame elegantly accentuated by the length of the fabric as it settles on his shoulders. “You’re a man of many talents,” he compliments warmly. He lets his fingers drift up and down the cloak once more, his left hand eventually finding the dangling metal charm Dedue had sewn onto the breast.  “I love it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hubert smiles genuinely, no attempt to hide his joy, no teasing remarks. He takes Dedue’s face in his hands, standing on the tips of his toes to kiss him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will admit credit for the idea goes partially to you, or at least to the books you’d managed to pilfer from the libraries of the Agarthans.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” Hubert raises an eyebrow with interest, “and I thought my particular interests only bored you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dedue laughs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The charm,” he says, gently taking the golden bird between his fingers, “acts as a conduit. The cloak has wire lining. You heat the charm with a small fire spell and it will direct that heat into the wires. The fabric is thick enough to hold that heat for some time. I thought this cloak would be of good use to you when we head back north in the colder months.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dedue,” Hubert says softly, “When did you have time to-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-Of course the gift comes with a stipulation,” Dedue interrupts him gently. “I would ask that you only use the cloak when I am not there to warm you. I would be quite displeased if Agarthan technology replaced me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this the part where I comfort your ego and swear that Agarthan technology could never warm my breast in the same manner that my dear, sweet, and patient husband does?” Hubert asks, in a mockingly dramatic tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would hope so,” Dedue laughs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hubert steps closer, lifting his arms to rest his hands on Dedue’s upper arms, the black cloak cascading to the floor and pooling at their feet. He holds that position for only a moment, before letting his fingers ghost against the bare skin of Dedue’s neck, coming to rest on his cheeks. He studies Dedue’s face with a solemn expression, carefully weighing what he wants to say next.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of words, Hubert presses his lips gently against Dedue’s. Once. Twice. Three times. And then he pulls away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are the only gift I need. You are everything to me,” he says, his voice serious but heart wrenchingly soft. He brings his hands back down, gently squeezing at Dedue’s arms and holding his gaze for a few silent beats, as though he could communicate the depth of his love with a prolonged glance. In that moment, Dedue would defy anyone who claimed he </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because the warmth sitting in his chest and the unspeakable passion emanating from Hubert’s eyes conveyed more emotion than words ever could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now,” Hubert breaks the silence, his face twisting into a wry smile, “stop fishing for compliments and hold me.” He snakes his arms around Dedue’s frame, nuzzling against his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well,” Dedue laughs, pulling him toward the nearest chair. As they collapse into a tangle of limbs, Hubert reaches to pull the cloak from the ground, brushing it off unceremoniously before draping it over the two of them. Hubert’s weight presses firmly against Dedue’s body and his steady breathing immediately lulls him into a state of comfort.  “Happy birthday,” he murmurs, before gently closing his eyes.</span>
</p>
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